camp A PENNY IN THE COUCH \ celebration

[MARBLEPAW]

Needledrift's grave is still newly-dug, and there are cats in Starlingheart's den still covered in chewed marigold, swathed in cobwebs. ShadowClan should be celebrating, though, shouldn't they? They had successfully conquered much-needed territory; they had hunted well there, too, by the look of the fresh-kill pile. Marblepaw can see things there that she has rarely eaten before — birds she never sees in the mire, and fat mice, voles who prefer rocky crevices to their marshy ground. She knows the Clan has been hard at work defending that territory... and she knows Needledrift's sacrifice had not been in vain.

Her Clan would eat well, at least tonight, and they would ensure that strip of territory continued to feed their Clan through this early leafbare. She picks a piece of prey with some determination — it's a mouse, nothing glamorous, but its meat is sweet and somewhat foreign — and she sets it delicately before her white paws in the middle of camp.

"We should take a moment to enjoy what's ours," she mews, her voice quiet but steady. "Our prey pile hasn't been this full in what feels like moons! And look — there's enough prey here for every cat to have a few pieces." She smiles and bends to take a bite of the mouse — an invitation for her Clanmates to join her.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: open to anyone in camp :] this is for phase 3 of the event!
• 
• Marblekit . Marblepaw, she/they w/ feminine and non-gendered terms.
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — 10 moons old, ages realistically on the 1st.
  — mentored by Starlingheart ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a
  — shadowclan medicine cat apprentice, formerly a rogue. siltcloud x lilacfur, gen 3.
  — currently mated to n/a.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh fawn tabby with dull green eyes. courageous, curious, introspective, observant, judgmental, snarky.

​

 

[BRANCHPAW]

𓆱 Marblepaw is trying to look on the bright side of things. She's trying to cheer up all her clanmates, hoping to take their minds off the terrible reality of the early cold snap. But unfortunately for the other apprentice, Branchpaw isn't keen on spreading any happiness. Her good cheer only manages to drag his gaze to her, judgmental and uncertain; ShadowClan may have something to celebrate, but Branchpaw doesn't. What is there to celebrate, anyway, besides his mama's death? The thought of being happy when he's just watched his clanmates bury Needledrift threatens to send him spiraling again, so the boy tries to push Marblepaw's suggestion from his mind. Maybe if he goes and finds a nest to curl up in, he can be left alone for the rest of the night.

Marblepaw is right, though—the prey pile is larger than it's been in months, and the amount of crying he's done has sapped the strength right out of him. A fresh piece of prey could be the perfect thing to fill the hollowed-out space in his chest. His paws drag across the ground slightly as he makes his way to the prey pile, and he snags a small mouse from the top without really seeing what he's choosing. It's sure to taste like ash in his mouth, but so will any other prey, so his choice doesn't really matter that much. With his meal clutched in his mouth, the tom turns to shuffle toward the apprentices' den.

archers never make good kings 𖠰𖠰 fly headfirst into everything

• ooc: —
• 
• BRANCHPAW ❯❯ he/him, apprentice of shadowclan
  𖠰 fluffy lilac tabby with white spotting and amber eyes. quiet and seething, but a natural storyteller.
  𖠰 son of ferndance and needledrift ; brother to bonechill, bloodwing, shadewhisker, splashdance, gigglepaw, morelpaw
  𖠰 mentored by flintwish
  𖠰 peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  𖠰 penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[MIRESTAR]

Mirestar suns themself on the outskirts of camp, right where its edges start to rise up to form the hollow that protects them from the worst of the elements. It's the perfect place for them to keep an eye on everybody — and it is sun-warmed for once. The light breaks through the shadows that normally cover the camp in usual darkness, and Mirestar revels in the warmth that it provides. Perhaps leaf-bare has receded, and it will wait its turn before pouncing on the Clans with all its might?

Rather uncharacteristically of themself, Mirestar tells themself not to be too optimistic. Prey had been scarce; nests had required more bedding; all their dens had to be reinforced. None of those would have been of importance this early on if the dangers of the cold hadn't been present.

It seems Marblepaw can read their mind, for she offers the enthusiasm that they normally tend to offer to their Clanmates. She is in a good mood, and when she picks something from the fresh-kill pile, Mirestar's own belly rumbles in response. They hadn't realized they let themself get hungry — it had been the obvious choice to make, but now that they took some of ThunderClan's land, the possibility of starvation has been whisked away.

"You're right. It's quite an unusual sight..." Mirestar muses, grabbing a squirrel from the pile to pick at beside Marblepaw. Perhaps they ought not to indulge too much in prey that is not usually theirs... but it would feel like spitting right in Needledrift's face, if they decide not to take advantage of the victory's gains. "Branchpaw, you're not joining us?" Guilt strikes them when they see his tabby form turn to leave, but they want to at least try to reach out to the poor apprentice, if nothing else.
​

 

[shalestorm]

For a long time, the Clan would feel the loss of their victory over ThunderClan. For a long time they would think back on that battle and mourn rather than celebrate. But the day is warmer than it has been in a long while, and all of ShadowClan cannot be in a constant state of mourning, and Marblepaw is right, they do deserve to take this moment now to enjoy how well they've done so far, and Shalestorm will take it upon herself to be the ray of light and joy and mischief if she has to. Already, she has her first victim subject in Branchpaw, who grabs some prey and beelines for the apprentice's den.

Mirestar is quick to call after him, and Shalestorm grins, forcing the grief induced tiredness from her bones as she springs to white paws and pads to the apprentice's side, aiming to rest her tail across his back. "C'mon, come sit with us! We can tell stories, and play games, and - oh! I bet the kits would love to see a super cool apprentice hanging out with the bigshots like the warriors and even Mirestar! It'll be fun, what d'you say?" She's laying it on a little thick, maybe, but sometimes it's a necessary evil.

if I held your hand // would that be okay?

• 
  ooc -
  
• 
  #e36f90
• 
  (img) Shalestorm * she/her* 27 moons
  blue point/blue chimera w/ low white; blue eyes
  Peaceful & healing powerplay allowed || underline for attack
  penned by Neptune. || Neptune on disc, dm me for plots

​

 

[Snowlark.]

[ ༻❄༺ ] He wasn't sure it was any time to celebrate after such a grave loss with Needledrift. She had been one of the cats alongside Smogstar and Sharpshadow as well as Magpiepaw that journeyed to help save the clan and now... now... she joined Magpiepaw in Starclan, Smogstar gone and unaware of her death, Sharpshadow still being one of the few around. Yellow gaze drifting towards Marblepaw who seemed to be making an attempt at cheering up her clanmates, an attempt of a celebration for their victory and mounds of prey, some which had been taken from Windclan and Thunderclan land, some coming from their newly acclaimed territory.

Everyone else seemed to be quick to join in on the celebration while Branchpaw moved to be on his own, yet Mirestar and Shalestorm were quick in an attempt to cheer the boy up while Snowlark's gaze softened a bit. They had just lost one of his mothers, and now the clan was just... celebrating just after she was freshly buried, he could understand some of the pain the boy was feeling in the moment, but it was a comforting sight to see his clanmates quick to try and ail his pain.

His thoughts went to Bonechill, surely the other wasn't in a celebrating mood either, yet Snowlark slunk to grab a small bird from the pile to join his clanmates, this might be the last time in moons that they can celebrate and enjoy a break before things could worsen. So might as well enjoy the moment. "Starclan truly graced us this moon..." he murmured softly.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── Where I am going is right where I am ──┐‎

• "speak""Thoughts"
• 
  Snowlark ❄ He/Him, Lead warrior of Shadowclan, 15 moons.
  ⭃ Lithe long hair blue lynx sepia with high white, and yellow eyes. Stubby tail, permanent resting bitch face
  ⭃ Hailfreckle x Mudsplash
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted (ask first) / / underline and tag when attacking
  ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by Ryn ↛ @/Rynnaro on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[AGATEPAW.]

Agatepaw looked at Branchpaw with a sense of empathy. If it had been Mudfern, he was certain he'd not be up to celebrating their achievements. He had not grieved someone he truly held dear before. Chilledstar and Smogstar, yes, but not someone who had raised him.

Though, in a way, he supposed he grieved his and Stonepaw's friendship.

He took a small bird from the pile for himself, not sure if he wanted to share or chat today. He joined the others regardless, words not coming easy. Today seemed like a listening day for him, and that was okay. It was the companionship that mattered in these times, right?

Nobody here was alone, despite everything. Clanmates were clanmates, and together, Agatepaw felt that they could do anything. They just had to keep moving forward. Forward. Forward. This was fine, but there would be more work today.

But for now, he relaxed and celebrated with everyone else, a soft smile on his face. Contentment.
​

"Speech"​

---

STEP FROM THE DARK TO THE LIGHT​

 

[Gigglepaw]

Gigglepaw couldn't imagine celebrating, not even in the aftermath of the successful battle that ShadowClan had won against ThunderClan. Something very dear to her had been taken and wasn't coming back, ever, and it had changed Gigglepaw from a wide-eyed, happy child into something much different. But she recognized that the Clan needed this, to keep morale up, to keep spirits high even in the midst of Leafbare. Perhaps that made her more grown, that she realized that, but she didn't care; all that mattered now was working herself up to become a warrior that could avenge Needledrift one day.

Gigglepaw eyed Branchpaw as he took a morsel from the freshkill pile and headed back towards the apprentices' den. He wasn't taking the situation well, either, especially that compounded with the recent discovery of Splashdance living her life in RiverClan as if nothing had ever transpired between the two siblings. She couldn't imagine what that was like - she'd been close with her older sister, but not nearly as Branchpaw had been.

"C'mon, Bran," Gigglepaw chirped, forcing happiness into her tone as was expected of her. She felt her lips turn up in a smile, even though she didn't truly want to. But this was the face that she needed to show ShadowClan, so they wouldn't worry. So that she could turn herself into a proper cog in the machine. "Share with me? I miss talking with you." That, at least, wasn't a lie. She felt distant from her siblings, and now was the time when she needed them most.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎OOC ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ INFO ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• !

• 

• GIGGLEPAW ✩ apprentice of shadowclan, eight moons
  → blinks incessantly & uncontrollably.
  → peaceful and healing powerplay permitted.
  → penned by Archivist → .archivist on discord.

​

 

[BLOODWING]

It felt wrong to give Needledrift's death purpose, as if calling her a hero or celebrating in spite of her somehow justified that seven cats were now without a parent - herself included. Even as the buzz of socialising became an alluring distraction, it left a foul taste in her mouth to the point where Bloodwing lingered on the outskirts instead of getting involved. She would've been content with her place, there but not involved, but voices began raising above the merriment, all directed towards Branchpaw. 'Join us!', 'It'll be fun', 'I miss talking with you'. The fur on her neck stood up in defence of the tabby. Her gaze shifts from Mirestar to Shalestorm and even to Gigglepaw, sharp as claws. She didn't know if she could get her brother back without their mother there to guide them, sure the kindness of others could help... but since the incident, he'd looked ready to combust.

She didn't know if it was better to leave him alone or force him to socialise, but instinct caused her to stomp forwards and her words came out before she had a chance to consider whether they were right. "You're gonna smother him, leave him alone." Orange eyes couldn't focus on any of the three smotherers, unsure which one was worse - the leader, the overly friendly one or the sibling - all created new expectations, all created the chance for that little time bomb to go boom. Bloodwing tried to place herself between the apprentice den and the outside world. "Trying to get him involved when he clearly doesn't want to... See how much you want a feast when your mums die."


​

 

[MAPLETUFT]

When Marblepaw calls out an invitation for celebration, Mapletuft draws over like a ghost on silent paws, tired eyes focusing on the medicine cat apprentice just barely while they speak. She's right, to a point, Maple doesn't quite remember when the last time they had such a full prey pile was. Perhaps it had been moons, or multiple season-cycles...?

Mapletuft settles in to Mirestars side without grabbing anything, her heart too heavy to even begin fathoming eating, her stomach too unsettled to keep anything down. Branchpaw grabs something and begins to depart and she casts a sympathetic, sad gaze over him, before everyone chimes in. She cringes, just for a second.

Her mouth opens, when Bloodwings does, but her voice does not come out before the others. She says it better than Mapletuft would have, her own would have been wrapped in a satin ribbon without any real bite- perhaps the bite is what they'd need...? She does not blame Gigglepaw, whose voice is a little sad, who says she misses talking with him; her heartstrings are strummed, ears swivel backwards. This was a terrible situation... To lose a mother... She does not know what to say, but something comes out anyways. "Just give him a little bit of space..." she murmurs, barely audible and to no one in particular, the words like a stone lodged in her throat. Owlmoon had been like that, once, when Acorntail had passed... And so had she, mourning the loss of a daughter, unwilling to take outside help. She does not blame Branchpaw. She wouldn't want to do anything, either.

Grieving sucks. Losing the cats you love sucks. I wish death wasn't a part of life, but... It is. Her lip trembles ever so slightly as she turns her head the other way.

Needledrift should be here to support her son, she should be laughing and being merry with all of them, she should be living and breathing. Mapletufts expression sours for a second before she forces herself to overcome it. She does not blame anyone but Thunderclan. They're the ones who murdered two of their warriors in the span of a couple moons. They're the ones who need to pay. She places her chin on her paws, letting out a small sigh as the chatter would presumably resume.

𝖶𝖧𝖤𝖭 𝖳𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖬𝖮𝖮𝖭 𝖨𝖲 𝖡𝖨𝖦 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖡𝖱𝖨𝖦𝖧𝖳 *•.🍁.•* 𝖨𝖳𝖲 𝖠 𝖲𝖴𝖯𝖤𝖱𝖭𝖠𝖳𝖴𝖱𝖠𝖫 𝖣𝖤𝖫𝖨𝖦𝖧𝖳

• ❥ mapletuft ʚ♡ɞ cider
  ❥ cis female ʚ♡ɞ she/her ʚ♡ɞ 54 months
  ❥ shadowclan deputy ʚ♡ɞ mentoring lavenderpaw
  ❥ long-furred chocolate torbie/cinnamon tabby chimera ʚ♡ɞ elegant & flowy
  ❥ "speech, F17E23" ʚ♡ɞ thoughts
  ❥ widowed ʚ♡ɞ bisexual
  ❥ smells like spice & cool night air ʚ♡ɞ warm & crisp
  ❥ penned by chuff

 

[Swallowflutter.]

OUR LOVE STORY
COULD BE KINDA GORY ​

---

swallowflutter ❀ 13 moons ❀ polygender ❀ any pronouns ❀ shadowclan warrior​

---

Unlike his clanmates, Swallowflutter is in great mood. Sure, there is anger there - burning hot and bright, the urge to dig teeth into flesh and tear others with her claws. But it is cold, impersonal - not because she will grieve needledrift, but because shadowclan had lost a warrior to thunderclans claws. Still, they'd gotten what they deserved - Shadowclan had claimed the strip of territory for themselves, and Swallowflutter takes pride in the fact he has already defended it once - even if the side of his head still aches faintly from reopening his wounds. Marblepaws word are met with a sharp-fanged grin,two-toned figure bouncing along to pluck whatever looks tastiest in that moment - a fat mouse, it seems, before darting away to find somewhere comfortable to rest. Preferably as far away from snowlark as the camp will allow.

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

---

( ━ F A R ━ F R O M ━ B O R I N G ━ )

---

 

[SMOKYKIT]

ShadowClan had been successful, they had said — those brave warriors had slipped back into camp, bloody and battered, news of their victory spilling out, and yet it hadn't really felt like a victory. Not like Smokykit had expected it to, at least, with the clawmarks and limp form there to drag down their excitement. It's not as though she's unaware of death, but to have it sink its claws into Needledrift like that — Needledrift, who had only just regaled them with tales of the great journey that she had undergone for the sake of ShadowClan. Needledrift, who had left behind family; Needledrift, the price of their victory.

Though winning the battle had afforded them new hunting grounds, something that might make or break this leafbare (at least, according to the adults), it's hard for Smokykit to see past the grief, confined to camp as she is; was more territory really worth it, she wonders? Never has she had to go hungry, but it's hard to avoid the stories of clanmates who have — maybe Needledrift's sacrifice would be the difference this leafbare, keeping them all afloat during the harsh conditions.

It's uncharacteristically warm today, almost warm enough to give her hope that leafbare has finally come to an end, though idle chatter quickly puts that thought to bed. The warmth is still enough to excite her, sending energy soaring through her in a way that feels much lighter than the energy she's used to defend against the snapping jaws of the cold, and she spends the better part of the day flitting about camp. Skipping between cats who will indulge her, letting out dramatically-wistful sighs as she reclines in sunbeams, generally making a nuisance of herself — Smokykit cycles through it all, a pleased glow practically emanating from her every action.

The day drags on, sun hanging heavy in the sky, and it's not until Marblepaw suggests that they gather and share in a meal that Smokykit realizes just how much energy she's spent already, her limbs suddenly leaden and stomach suddenly empty, just like that. Luckily for her, she's not so tired to be unable to make it over to the fresh-kill pile, and the sight of such heaping options quickly rejuvenates her, tiredness forgotten just as quickly as it had been realized. Rather than wait for Ashenfall or Flintwish to pick out something for them to all share, Smokykit takes the initiative of latching onto a bird, and she begins to drag it off towards the nursery entrance, blissfully unaware of the tension surrounding the impromptu 'celebration'.

Though the bird is practically too big for her own good, it would surely make a good meal shared between her and her siblings, though its size wasn't what had drawn her attention; no, instead, Smokykit was hoping to nab a few of its feathers to weave into their nest, or maybe just to play games with. Promisekit and Mercykit would love to keep some too, she's sure, and Tinykit would probably help her invent some sort of new game with their stolen prize.​

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ THE RADIO PLAYS A FAMILIAR SONG 𖤓 AND YOU ARE LOVED, YOU ARE LOVED ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• OOC: -
  ​
• 
  
  
• SMOKYKIT —. She/her, kit of ShadowClan
  — .Flintwish x Ashenfall, littermate to Promisekit, Tinykit, & Mercykit
  — . 2 moons old, ages on the 1st
  — .An ill-proportioned, smoky molly with bright amber eyes and an exceedingly curly, tangled pelt.
  — .Enthusiastic and vibrant, easily distracted, prideful & caring - friendly within reason
  — .Peaceful & healing powerplay permitted - brushing up against her, shoulder bumps, etc.
  — .Penned by Hijinks - feel free to DM me on Discord to plot! ^^
  ​

 

[scalejaw]

★ She watches, somewhere off the flank from Marblepaw, with yellow eyes. Patience is in her gaze, and yet, she shares the bitter taste in her mouth like the others- a loss of someone dear to the clan. A pyre of light, an oak of support. Even Mirestar listened to her council, she believes. Scalejaw tilts her head this way and that as Branchpaw is called out to. While she doesn't join in- or stop them, as any good warrior should know how to take care of themselves in this instant- her eyes shift towards Mapletuft.

Her wobbling lip, the sour look on her face, then defeat as she laid her head down. Scalejaw's eyebrow drew together briefly. Death was a part of life- death was a part of clan life, better marked. It followed the greenest greenleafs with the coldest of leafbares. Scalejaw blew a breath out. "The prey will go bad if we don't eat." She meows, voice solid, strong. Ever the unwavering. She pushes to her paws, padding to the pile and selecting a vole- a rare delicacy on this side of the border.

Scalejaw moves, settling down near Mapletuft instead this time. "Share with me." She says- was it a question, or a statement? The dry tone indicated the second, but she didn't wait for any answer before biting into the vole, pulling meat free. She sat back, eyes shifting towards Mapletuft expectantly.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎┌── AND JUST LIKE THE RAIN ⋅❁⋅ YOU CAST THE DUST INTO NOTHING ──┐‎

• "speech"

• 

• SCALEJAW 🌧 she/her, lead warrior of shadowclan, sixty-six moons.
  ★ A SH black/LH blue smoke chimera with glowering orange eyes, tufts of fur that make her look dragon-akin, and scars that she wears with pride. motherly and stern attitude, with a warm streak for clanmates and a cruel streak for enemies.
  ★ mentoring no one
  ★ padding after no one / / mother to bonerattle, nightwhisper, and shadefall
  ★ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ★ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[BATCHASER]

When Marblepaw's voice rings upon the clearing– announcing an invitation for Shadowclanners to join her in celebration. Cheering up her clanmates... the bright side of things. He lays on the outskirts of camp, halfway in the shade. Batchaser hums at the sudden warmth, sun dappled provide to the split - colored black smoke.

Dens are reinforced, nests are built with more bedding and the prey is dwindling... but manageable to catch. The tom's own stomach shows in head, urging him to get something to fill it. Of course, he is amused but gets up anyways. Pale paws carry him to the prey pile, humming until he picks out a bird. An ear twitching at the nearby conversation, turning his figure around he slinks off to find his old mentor. Sharing a meal with Foxroot is a nice way to catch up with the senior warrior.

𓂃 𝅄᠂ ⭒ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 ☽ 𝙃𝙄𝘿𝘿𝙀𝙉 𝙀𝙔𝙀𝙎 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙎𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙋 𝙂𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙎

•  

• temp batchaser ref.

  

• ( THAT'S ONE ENEMY DOWN! ) ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ BATCHASER. ╱ shadowclan warrior.
  ― CISMALE ; HE / HIM ; CURRENTLY 37 MOONS OLD & AGES EVERY 10TH.
  ✦ pansexual / not actively looking — mentoring none.
  ✦ a tall shorthaired curly black smoke bicolor with gold/green heterochromia.
  ✦ thoughts ; "Speech, 7077A1" ; attacks only
  ✦ may powerplay minor harm ╱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ✦ smells like rain-soaked pavement, mist & sweet leaf rot
  — all opinions are ic
  
  — biography / @ on discord for plots
  — penned by calzone
  

​

 

[FERNDANCE]

The she-cat curled up at the edge of the clearing, an untouched frog at her quivering paws. The world around her contorted and slowed, each corner so well-known and yet so unfamiliar as she stared off into space. An imaginary figure sat at her side, a grey ghost with a broken jaw and kind eyes, but even as she tried to talk to what was not there, her throat was too arid to let anything other than the occasional cough escape. Not even the distant words of her kittens stirred Ferndance, it was only time that broke her out of her stupor.

And when the noise became too much, she abandoned the amphibian and retreated back into the warrior's den. There would be no celebration for some time.

​

 

[Briarthorn]

.·:*¨༺🕷༻¨*:·. Optimism had never been Briarthorn's strong suit, especially when she could still feel the ghost of those ThunderClanners fangs digging into her shoulder, in spite of Starlingheart and Marblepaw's efforts to get her healed nicely.

Needledrifts death had double-edged ShadowClan's victory over ThunderClan with tragedy, Briarthorn had felt it ripple through the clan; heard it plague the warriors den in the night. The senior warriors death had been a loss, that much the warrior could empathize with. Beyond that? Well, dealing with death had never been her strong suit, either.

It's why Marblepaw's call for celebration instead is a slight relief for the stoic warrior, who draws over as the medicine cat apprentice encourages her Clanmates to indulge. Enjoy what's ours, the healer-to-be says.

Briarthorn withdraws from the fresh-kill pile with a decent amount of mouse bundled in her jaws, eyes drawing over to where Shalestorm subjects Branchpaw to being the center of attention, who's begun to be crowded with loved ones. Retreating, Briarthorn opts to settle just outside the fray, content to quietly watch.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── KEEP YOUR DEMONS ⋅ ࿏ ⋅ ON A LEASH ──┐‎

• 

• 
  BRIARTHORN ꔫ she/her, warrior of shadowclan, 12 moons.
  ⭃ slender, lean-muscled black she-cat with sharp hazel eyes & large ears.
  ⭃ daughter of Forestshade && Vulturemask ࿏ sister to Screechpaw && Sweetpaw
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Noor ↛ @toyangel on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[promisekit]

Fear is not something that plagues Promisekit. His sister finds tendrils of empathy to grasp onto, fretting over loss and injury - but the gangly tom cannot find it in himself to offer anything further than surface level sorrows. His bloodline has not been silenced yet, and neither has ShadowClan despite the misfortune it's constantly drowning in. A freeze won't suffocate them - all a loss can do is bleed their hearts, but they will mend just like before.

A celebration - Marblepaw is right to declare one. They won. They won something intangible to the child, who's territory is nothing more than stories to his senses, but success nonetheless. Smokykit drags a fat bird to the nursery and Promisekit's sly grin snakes its way onto his expression. As soon as the other is close enough, he pounces, clasping his clawed paws around the body of the bird. His thievery is brief, for he breaks away with a few feathers ripped from the body. One of which then finds itself in the shaggy fur of his sister, quickly but delicately placed.

"Ohh, it looks pretty there...!" he muses, tail lashing.​

 

[Swansong]

⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ Respite is brief and sweet as the finest honey. The sun comes in swathes of gold, just as Swansong has emerged from her hold in the medicine den. The scarred tissue of her throat slips easily beneath pale fur, the rasp of her voice familiar, if more pronounced.

Campionsong sleeps with Applejaw beneath the frost-licked earth. Life continues on without them.

Lounging in the soft glow of the sun, Swansong lets the sounds of celebration sweep over her. This will not last, she knows this as well as anyone. StarClan takes just as much as they give. Still, she finds her tired eyes turning to the nursery. Even amidst all the death and misfortune of the marshes, new life takes root like an early newleaf blossom. Her mouth curls in a soft smile watching Smokykit and Promisekit tussle with the prey pile's plumpest bird.

Slowly, she rises. Snowy paws pad towards the pair, and Swansong huffs a soft breath of a laugh as brother decorates sister. "My, it certainly does...!" she trills softly. "I do not suppose you would be willing to share? I see a spot one of those feathers would look nice upon you, as well..." Light twinkles in Swansong's eyes. Gone is the cold cat whose claws sought revenge only days ago. Her rage has melted in the unexpected warmth, given way to petalsoft blossoms of sweetness. She will bask in the peace for as long as she is allowed.

I FELL ASLEEP WITH A VISION ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ AND I ALMOST PULLED IT THROUGH‎

• 
  
  

  "SPEECH"

• 
  SWANSONG ☾ she / they, warrior of shadowclan, 20 moons.
  ★ a pale, silky-furred cream tabby with tired blue eyes.
  ★ dreamy and detached, known for her perpetual sleepiness.
  ★ halfshade x smogstar, littermate to applejaw, garlicheart, & ashenfall.
  ★ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ★ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

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[RIBBITLEAP]

With a clanmate newly fallen and memories of faded battles dug up in the day's wake, Ribbitleap is wary of the idea of a celebration. But the medicine apprentice is right — though things haven't been going well, there is some good left in the marshes. A full fresh-kill pile is often a rare sight for his home. StarClan has been good to them, in that light. He just wishes... He just wishes life hadn't been lost prior. He just wishes for a celebration without the conjunction of mourning. And as Shalestorm calls attention to Branchpaw, Ribbitleap finds himself silently taking his own piece of prey and retreating to the clearing's outskirts, remembering, feeling the shell of loss he's carried since he'd been the apprentice's age.​

 

[LIVIDSMOKE]

Celebration at a time like this, after having just lost one of thier clanmates. Lividsmoke had to disagree despite the won territory after that fight leafbare had just begun which left them all in an unpredictable mercy. Tomorrow were uncertain and so all of thier hardwork was not enough, never enough despite the territory they had gained with the prize of Needledrift life, a life they would have needed this leafbare far more then...some others.

They would not join them, unable to see a point of this celebration when tomorrow brought no promises, no comfort. The future was all that Lividsmoke had in mind, all they could afford to care about to make sure shadowclan survived through another leafbare. With Needledrift gone someone had to make sure to put down the extra work to make up for the loss, to hunt for two warriors now.

Casting only a brief glance at the crowded camp, Lividsmoke turned to leave for the exit to use this 'celebration' to go out on thier own to find more food to fill that fresh pile with. Perhaps they could cover the ground to hunt on the new territory they had won that might have more rich prey then here in the swamps.

With that they were gone to hunt in the night.




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[LAVENDERPAW]

His time here has taught him, among many other things, the importance of good morale. This doesn't change the fact that every time Lavenderpaw closes his eyes, he can see a bloodied pink nose and big, hurt golden eyes staring back at him. The cut on his forehead itches, but he resists the urge to scratch it. Treating it was already a needless use of herbs, in his opinion, it'd be stupid of him to reopen it and make their medicine cats feel the need to waste even more herbs on him than they already have. There are cats here recovering from far deeper wounds than his.

He doesn't feel much like eating, but food is fuel, and he'll need it to survive this coming leaf-bare. Skipping meals if he doesn't have to is a foolish mistake. He's about to go over and correct one such decision for Mapletuft, who slumps beside Mirestar without a single bite of prey anywhere to be seen, when Scalejaw beats him to it. He tries to catch the lead warrior's eye, attempting to convey some thanks - then turns a stern glance upon the red-gold deputy.

Stopping beside the fresh-kill pile, he pauses, considering whether he should take his food to a dark corner and eat alone, or make some attempt at being present with his Clanmates. The thought of sitting and letting himself stew in the shame of not having been steely enough to fight for his survival makes his already absent appetite sour even further, and there's an empty space next to Marblepaw. There usually is, he's noticed. She's tolerable in his books; the way she'd done her job when removing a thorn from his pad had earned her some favor, even if she had pressed him about Mapletuft. Shrugging, he picks out some sort of songbird and silently joins her. He doesn't sit too close, leaving a healthy amount of distance between them as he tucks into his bird.

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‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── you can take all you want ⋆⋅🐦‍⬛⋅⋆ but not who i am ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• 

• LAVENDERPAW ✩ he/him, apprentice of shadowclan, seven moons
  ⭃ a small, spiky-furred black smoke tom with odd eyes and low white. he's resentful of being dumped at shadowclan's paws by his nonna, and avoids his new clanmates as much as he can, but in truth he's a compassionate young cat who romanticizes the world around him. he holds a deep fascination with birds of prey. ic opinions, he is in his pre-teen angst phase and it will get worse before it gets better.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by solaire ↛ @funeralscythe on discord, feel free to ping for plots.

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